


All Summer Long

by f0rever15elf



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: F/M, Food mention, Pedro Pascal - Freeform, Weed mention, alcohol mention, kid rock - Freeform, non-descript mentions of sex, tiiiiinnnyyyyy bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f0rever15elf/pseuds/f0rever15elf
Summary: It’s amazing how a summer thing can leave a lasting impact on you. A summer fling eventually returns to you, years later when Frankie comes home from war.
Relationships: Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	All Summer Long

_It was 1989, my thoughts were short my hair was long_

_Caught somewhere between a boy and man_

_She was seventeen and she was far from in-between_

_It was summertime in Northern Michigan_

Two high school kids, drunk in love without a care in the world. No thoughts about the future or about growing old. All that mattered was the here and the now. They were together, and that’s all that mattered. Nothing could touch them like this.

Their laughter echoed through the trees around them as he told her another of his ridiculous jokes. It was dumb, and if anyone asked him fifteen years down the road, he’d tell them that he had no clue what he had said, but he could recall clear as day the sound of her laughter and the feeling he got in his chest as her skin glowed in the midday sun.

Both of them knew this was their last summer together. They knew that one day, their time would run out and they would go their separate ways. But for a moment, they could forget that.

This was summer time, a time for joy and celebration and relaxation, and they would be damned if they didn’t take full advantage of that. Time could stop for just a little while. Time could let them have this.

_Splashing through the sand bar_

_Talking by the campfire_

_It’s the simple things in life, like when and where_

_We didn’t have no internet_

_But man I never will forget_

_The way the moonlight shined upon her hair_

War is worse than hell, but it’s the path he chose. The choice to defend his country, to see the world in the only way he thought he would ever be able to afford to. But not once did he question his decision. He is a proud soldier, and a damn good pilot. He had qualified for Delta Force in no time, making a new family of his teammates, his brothers in arms. They take care of each other. Especially when being away from home gets too hard.

They all have family they left behind. Tom has a brand new wife he had married just before deploying. Benny has a girl stateside who he won’t shut up about, and his brother William gives him constant shit for it.

“What about you Cat? You got a girl back home?” they badger him around the fire one night, shortly after joining the team as their rotary pilot.

“Nah, man. I’m flying solo. Have been since I joined up.”

It’s only a half-truth. He doesn’t have anyone in any official capacity, but there is a girl always on his mind, still as beautiful as the day he met her in his mind’s eye. The picture of everything lovely in this world, with a sunshine smile and sparkling eyes and a laugh that could make the hardest man smile.

He distinctly remembers the night they went to the beach together that last summer, skinny dipping under the full moon out by the sand bar. God he remembers how she absolutely _shimmered_ in the moonlight, like she wasn’t really there, and how he had pinched himself to ensure himself that she was.

With a fond smile, he sips his beer. _I wonder where she is now?_

_And we were trying different things_

_We were smoking funny things_

_Making love out by the lake to our favorite song_

_Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking ‘bout tomorrow_

_Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long_

Not a care in the world, that’s how she lived. And it suited her. She was so full of vivacity, he found himself scrambling to keep up with her. He didn’t ask questions, he just allowed himself to exist with her, to cherish this time with her.

And _oh_ how they lived. A smuggled forgotten bottle of jack from his dad’s cabinet. A few rolled blunts from her friend in town. An old ratty blanket and his boombox on the shore by the lake. They would drink and smoke and laugh and make love without a single care under the light of the moon and stars. This was summer, and summer was for living. And when the song changed, their favorite song, he would sing with her as they danced before they fell to the blanket, losing themselves in the feeling of the other’s touch.

Tomorrow could wait. For tonight, they had each other. 

_Catching Walleye from the dock_

_Watching the waves roll off the rocks_

_She’ll forever hold a spot inside my soul_

_We’d blister in the sun_

_We couldn’t wait for night to come_

_To hit that sand and play some rock and roll_

The thing about ignoring life, is that it always catches up. College prospects fell through leaving him with only one option, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her, not when she was so happy to sit with him, legs dangling over the water as they watched their fishing lines. He swore he would tell her, that she needed to know, _deserved_ to know. But who was he to wrench that happiness from her? She deserved to only know happiness and joy and he couldn’t be the one to tear that from her. He couldn’t live with himself if he did that. He couldn’t tell her he had enlisted. 

And so he didn’t. The song changed and he turned the music up, hoping the tune would drive the guilt from his body as he lost himself in her, in her smile as the sun beat down on them. Night would come soon enough, and they would go back to his favorite spot on the beach and they would dance and sing to the music on the boombox. He would pull out his guitar from his truck and play her a song as she sipped from the near empty whiskey bottle and she would reach up to tangle her fingers in his hair that would soon be gone.

For now, he would live and let live.

_While we were trying different things_

_We were smoking funny things_

_Making love out by the lake to our favorite song_

_Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow_

_Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long_

_Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long_

He never told her. He couldn’t. Call him a coward, call him what you will. He couldn’t bear to see that beautiful smile fall from her face and know that he was the reason. No, he just left without so much as saying goodbye. 

The day the bus came for him, he kissed his mother and hugged his father, grabbed his bags and left. It would be easier this way was the lie he told himself over and over as he stared at the Polaroid of the two of them together, her arms thrown around his neck with his messy locks sticking out from under the new baseball cap she had given him.

The picture eventually grew blurry before a single tear landed over their faces. He was leaving his heart behind him and he had been too scared to even say goodbye. All he could hope for was that she would be okay without him, that she would understand. He was going to war. He might not ever come back. And he couldn’t leave her with that burden of not knowing. He wouldn’t, _couldn’t,_ do that to her.

You stood on the beach that day, waiting for him to show up. But he never did. The sun dutifully made its way across the sky, but his beat up old truck never made its way to the shore line. Logically, you knew this day would come eventually. You knew there would be a day that one of the two of you would take the next step in your lives, in your careers, but you thought that he would have had the decency to tell you goodbye first.

In a last ditch effort, a last sliver of hope, you made your way to his house only to be greeted by his mother and her sad smile and tear filled eyes. He was gone.

_Gone._

Off to fight overseas in a war you didn’t really understand the point of. Off to risk his life every day for the next who even knows how many years. And he didn’t even tell you goodbye.

Your heart shattered that day.

_Now nothing seems as strange as when the leaves began to change_

_Or how we thought those days would never end_

_Sometimes I’ll hear that song and I’ll start to sing along_

_And think man I’d love to see that girl again_

Time rolled on and in separate parts of the world you lived your lives. School for you, a degree and a job. The military for him, promotions and missions.

He never tried to contact you, and part of you wonders if he had forgotten. Were you just a good time, a fond memory from the end of high school? No, no that couldn’t be. That summer was special. That summer was different and wonderful and… and he couldn’t have just forgotten you. You haven’t forgotten him, surely he must still remember you.

Eventually, the day comes that affords you the chance to find out. A friend of a friend of a friend with connections to the military gets word to you that they think they know this summer memory of yours, and that he’s coming home for good. 

Where? 

When? 

No matter the time or the place, you’ll be there. You’ll be there and you’ll find out if he remembers you the way you remember him. Whiskey kisses and moonlight loving. 

~~~~

The plane is scheduled to land at 1635. It’s his last flight as a member of the military, he realizes. It’s bitter sweet. He’s saying goodbye to his teammates, to his brothers. He’s changing his life completely, reintegrating into civilian society with only a high school and military education. Who would want a washed up Spec Ops pilot? With a sigh, he tugs his hat down over his eyes before placing his hand over his breast pocket.

 _Maybe she’s still there_.

It’s a whisper, a ghost of a memory. It’s been years, she probably doesn’t even remember him, but a small sliver of his heart can’t help but hope that the girl in the faded Polaroid in his breast pocket under his palm is still there waiting for him, smiling like the last day he saw her. Pope elbows him, throwing him a concerned look and he just plays it off like it’s nothing. “Just tired,” he insists, and Pope leaves it at that, knowing better than to pry.

As the wheels touch down, his stomach clenches. He can’t do this. He can’t go back to a place she isn’t.

The boarding ramp drops down and the men all disembark to the cheers of waiting friends and family, happy to see their soldiers returned safe and sound. He knows there’s no one there for him, so he heads straight through, not even stopping to look around. But when that song, _their song_ , hits his ears, he freezes. He’s hallucinating, he must be. There’s no way you’re here. It’s a popular song, someone else must have it as a ringtone or something. So he shakes his head and starts walking again.

It’s him, you realize as he disembarks. You’d recognize that baseball cap anywhere, even faded and ragged as it is. He’s kept it. All these years, he’s kept it. And he’s filled in so much, no longer the lanky seventeen year old who romped with you all summer all those years ago. He’s grown into himself, and he carries himself with such dignity that you almost don’t recognize him. But it’s him. It’s definitely him.

He doesn’t see you in the crowd. Of course he wouldn’t, he doesn’t know you’re here, why would he look for you? In a panic, you turn on the song that the two of you would sing at the top of your lungs as you danced under the moonlight, hoping he remembers it as fondly and intimately as you. And when you see him freeze, your heart clenches. That is, until he shakes his head and starts walking again.

Desperately, you start singing, the lyrics of Sweet Home Alabama pouring from your lips in a shaky verse, and he freezes again. Slowly, so painfully slowly, he turns around. You can’t see it behind his aviators, but his warm brown eyes shoot wide open and before you can even utter his name, he’s dropped the bag and is running towards you. His arms wrap around you, spinning you around as he holds you in a near suffocating hug.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming. Oh _God_ , please tell me I’m not dreaming right now. Tell me you’re really here.” His face is hidden against your neck as he holds you, his entire body trembling as you wrap your arms around him.

“It’s me, Frankie. I’m here. I’m home.”

A sob tears from his throat as tears fill your own eyes. He remembers, and just like that summer, everything else melts away until it’s just you and him and your favorite song as you hold one another like they’re about to slip away. You’re home and he’s home and summer is just around the corner.

_And we were trying different things_

_We were smoking funny things_

_Making love out by the lake to our favorite song_

_Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow_

_Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long_


End file.
